Well, damn!

I finally found the perfect radio station! Yes, we relocated here a few years ago but this is something not to take lightly, this is serious work. I mean, this could mean the difference between a pleasant drive rockin’ out to your favorite band, singing along at the top of your lungs as you speed along the highway or agreeing to listen to your gal pal’s favorite station, which is jazz. Don’t get me wrong, jazz has a place in my life but I find it relaxing and when in the car it makes me sleepy. Not something you want to happen when I’m behind the wheel.

So imagine my glee when I came across a local station that had my foot a tappin’. I shook a little booty while making dinner tonight. All of a sudden washing the dishes didn’t seem like a chore, just a reason to extend my listening pleasure. I even drew an audience. My four-legged love bug decided watching my antics was better than napping. He seemed amused. I think he enjoyed the solos I dedicated to him.

All of this happiness right there in my kitchen. . . and then I heard the DJ announce the name of the station.  It’s a damn “oldies” station!! Since when did songs from the ’80s become “oldies”?!?! Come to think of it, I did find myself singing along to a song in the grocery store a couple of weeks ago. What’s next? I get my groove on in the elevator.  .  .